Protest and Worship

Friends, 

Back in 1969, the National Black Economic Development Conference (NBEDC) adopted what was called “The Black Manifesto.” It was the year after Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had been assassinated and his vision of “the beloved community” was undergoing some re-evaluation among many African Americans. Namely, the idea that we can all forgive one another and put the past behind us as we move forward into the promised land of racial harmony was being challenged by the sheer fact that white Americans, on average, continued to enjoy a far better standard of living than African Americans. Whether it was through back room deals or wink-and-nod agreements, there continued to be institutional barriers and unacknowledged privileges that were far more powerful in everyday life than the rhetoric and aspirations of the beloved community. So, the Black Manifesto addressed, not just changes in the law or changes in the heart, but an economic transfer of wealth, demanding that white churches and synagogues give $500,000,000 to the African American community. It is a lot of money and was even a relatively greater amount of money then. But it was the amount that the NBEDC determined was necessary to set up the kind of infrastructure that was necessary to enable African Americans to rise up out of poverty, out of inadequate education, out of ill-housing, and out of under-employment after centuries of slavery, Jim Crow laws, and a host of racist abuse. 

 

It was and it wasn’t a large amount of money. It came out to about $15.00 per African American, so in that respect it was not the kind of reparation that a courtroom might offer to someone who had been ill-used by another. And from the giving side, one white theologian said that it was an amount that equaled about one month of receipts for white churches in America. Not a small thing normally, but certainly tiny compared to the kinds of money that churches raise through capital campaigns over and over. Still, it was money and it was a lot of money and that always means that people will differ strongly over it. And they did. Many persons argued that by enumerating the needs of the black community, the manifesto was racializing the issue, just when we should all get along and work together on equal footing. 

 

On May 4, 1969, James Forman and other members of the NBEDC interrupted worship at the Riverside Church in Manhattan and read the demands of the manifesto. The Riverside Church was not a bastion of racist resistance, but was considered by many to be a leading light among progressive churches. Before Forman could begin to explain the reason for the service interruption, the organist drowned out his words with the hymn “May Jesus Christ be Praised,” as preaching minister Rev. Dr. Ernest Campbell led a silent walkout of the majority of the congregation. The attention quickly moved from whether the demands of reparation in the manifesto were justified to whether disrupting a worship service were a proper way of making one’s demands known.

 

I shared this story in a sermon ten years ago and I wondered how we at St. Mark would feel if some Black Lives Matter protesters interrupted our worship service, demanding that we direct more of our attention, time, and budget to racial justice, or if some climate activists interrupted worship and demanded that we undertake more direct action to save the environment. I asked, “Would we be angry? Would we walk out, like the pastor, the choir, and half the congregation of Riverside did?” After worship quite a few of you intoned on how you think you would react, and how you think most others would as well. If they marched around the sanctuary, you would join them. If they shouted, “Black Lives Matter!” you would shout along. If they demanded reparations, you would ask the Finance Commission to do what they could to meet the demand. Many of us figured that protests against injustice are in sync, and not contrary, to who we are when we worship, so we would at least give them a listen. 

 

While I share those sentiments, I have to admit that it’s easy to say when speaking hypothetically. The shock of someone actually disrupting worship in Manhattan 57 years ago, or in Minneapolis last week, or in Jerusalem 2000 years ago, or any time at St. Mark would probably prove more jolting than I want to imagine – especially since we’re already on tenterhooks after some of the episodes of gun violence that have taken in houses of worship over the last decade. So, we should be circumspect about it. Today, the Riverside Church in Manhattan has this page devoted to “The Black Manifesto,” which includes a study guide regarding the church’s response to it. 

 

Protests of many kinds have long been part of the Christian tradition, including the “Triumphal Entry” of Jesus into Jerusalem, and of course Jesus’ own disruption of worship in the temple. This Sunday, after worship, our Children and Youth Ministries Team will co-sponsor a one-hour protest after worship, along with our Peace and Justice Commission. As Pastor Hayes said in a letter to parents, “This protest was the idea of our youth who attended Sunday School last week.  During our discussion of Matthew 25 and Amos 5:24, we discussed ways our teens would like to live into God’s call to work for social justice…. Our youth said they’d like to protest ICE violence and call for justice for Renee Good’s death.  And, they said they’d like to invite our congregation to join them, so everyone (all ages) are welcome to attend.” 

 

Mark of St. Mark